


we're made of secrets

by Charante_Leclerc



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Kind of a five and one thing?, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 10:28:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20044483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charante_Leclerc/pseuds/Charante_Leclerc
Summary: Five times Bono saw drivers in love, and one time he didn't





	we're made of secrets

**Author's Note:**

> For anon with the prompt: "pete bonnington/bono? Could be about anything really💕". I hope you enjoy, I'm sorry it took so long!

He’d decided, after his many years of being in the Paddock, that the majority of these drivers were idiots. They lived these lives in the limelight, and were all terribly bad at hiding secrets. It was shameful really, someone should really tell them, but he didn’t want to be the one to do it. So he left it be, and kept quiet when he stumbled across them in compromising situations. They never knew, and that suited him best.

i.

The first time he’d discovered two drivers in a… situation, he’d been still fairly new to this circus. Well, he liked to think so anyway. It felt like a lifetime ago now, but it was only nine years ago. Christ, that made him feel old. 

He’d been taking a weird route down the Paddock, the media having been kicked up into a frenzy with all the on-track entertainment. He hadn’t really been concentrating that much on what happened between the Red Bull and the McLaren, too focused on his own team. It wasn’t like they were scrapping for the race win, or even points, another retirement for them was almost inconsequential. From what he’d seen, it had looked like a strange incident, and a nasty one for the McLaren, no wonder the journalists had descended. The Championship was still wide open, this just made it even more exciting. 

He was rushing between motorhomes, when he heard two hushed voices, though the anger was still evident. He stopped, almost as if he’d been struck. It wasn’t as if he was in awe of anyone (which was a lie even to himself but he wasn’t going to admit it), but he wasn’t massively important. He knew that, and he didn’t want to be chewed out by anyone for disturbing something he really shouldn’t be hearing. 

He knew he should go back, and he was really just about to start retreating, but one of the people said something quietly, and he just _ knew _ that voice. He crept forward, peering round the corner of the motorhome, mouth falling open. Even his in his wildest dreams, he’d think he was crazy. Completely insane. 

Jenson was stood with his arms crossed, still looking furious, but even from the distance he was standing at it was obvious that the anger was disappearing. Seb was standing close, hand on Jenson’s waist, curled like it belonged there. Jenson’s face was slipping into frustrated, to slightly irritated, with a glimmer of fondness. Seb was still talking, looking upset and slightly red in the face, and Jenson was still watching him like Seb was his entire world. 

_ Holy shit. _

As Jenson leant in to press a kiss to Seb’s head, he pulled back behind the motorhome, not making a sound. He retraced his steps, turning back into the main paddock, trying to concentrate his mind on his job. He was going to pretend he saw nothing, it was best for everyone, right?

~*~

ii.

The second time he stumbled across two drivers, he was standing in a corridor, and they didn’t even notice him. It was the end of the season, and 2011 was looming ever closer. Seb was off celebrating with his team still, the party still being heard from all the way across the hotel. He’d come into this race the underdog, even Red Bull not believing he’d be their champion, which possibly made it all so much sweeter. 

He was digging in his bag, he knew he’d thrown his door key in here somewhere, it was just _ where _. He was tired, and after the excitement of the weekend was just the empty, drained feeling that was left behind. He just wanted his bed, and to pass out for a few hours. He deserved it, really. 

He vaguely heard the lift open, and two figures stumbled out. He only glanced up, not really concerned, until his brain finally caught up with his eyes. It wasn’t two random strangers that had stumbled out of the lift. It was Fernando and Mark. Both blindingly drunk, and both completely unaware that there was anyone else in the corridor. Fernando was completely invested in trying to tear Mark’s clothes off (and he really meant _ tear_), and Mark was only focused on kissing whatever part of Fernando he could get his hands on. They stumbled into walls, not really caring where they were going or who heard them, and if they had noticed him he figured that they probably wouldn’t care. There was an intensity about them that stunned him, it made him feel like he was intruding on something desperately private and emotionally raw, even though it looked like they were trying to have drunken sex in a corridor.

He looked through his bag again, trying not to make too much noise, finally finding his door key and letting himself in, ignoring any noises he could hear from outside his door. He was going to put this evening into the same place in his mind as that day in the paddock, and pretend it never happened. He didn’t even know what they were to each other, so there was no use in thinking about it.

He was still trying to convince himself of that when he laid down on his bed, and then he was thinking about nothing at all. 

~*~

iii.

When Dan and Jev arrived onto the F1 scene, he’d known almost at once that there was something more there. It was in their body language, in their looks. He’d resigned himself to running into them in some unfortunate situation, he was already up to two hands with his encounters with Mark and Fernando, and it was almost impossible to see how in love Seb and Jenson were once he knew the truth. It was the same with Dan and Jev, you could almost see the adoration in their eyes, how they gravitated to each other without really realising it.

It didn’t take long to run into them, in a nondescript bar in Melbourne, hours after the race ended. He’d only left the Paddock an hour ago, helping take down the motorhome where needed, and staying for the debrief. There wasn’t much they could do first race in, but it was always helpful to get as much feedback as possible. Couldn’t hurt, could it?

He’d barely sat down with his beer, when he noticed them in the corner of the bar, already fairly wasted, and Dan all but sitting in Jev’s lap. If he had been someone from Red Bull or Toro Rosso, both of them would be toast - getting drunk after the first race of the season wouldn’t be the way to go about keeping their seats. But they seemed comfortable, with people seeing them in the open, with each other. Jev saw him staring, and he could see the panic burst onto Jev’s face, but all he did was wink and turned his attention back to his beer, smiling to himself. He was already keeping secrets for two couples on the grid, what was the harm in a third? 

~*~

iv.

The drivers seemed to be getting younger all the time. Or maybe it was him getting older, maybe a bit of both. They were all so idealistic and unafraid, happy to stare death in the face with nothing but a laugh. He admired them, he truly did. He wished that he could be so carefree, or even that he’d seen others like them in years gone by. It might have made all the difference to some. Now those drivers he’d started with were older, more cautious, still products of their time in a way. The difference between Seb, Lewis, Fernando and Kimi to the rookies on the grid was outstanding. There was no other way to say it. 

However, it almost meant that they were even more reckless than some of the predecessors. He’d seen so many get themselves into situations, and didn’t know what to do about it. These guys didn’t seem to care what happened, almost playing a game of dare. How far could they dare to push it? How long would that thrill pay off, until the worst happened and their world bottomed out?

He only thought it was the thrill seeking experience, he was certain of it. But then Japan came, and Charles was quieter than usual, looking pale and withdrawn. And at his side was Pierre, only having to look at someone to make sure they got out of the way, keeping any unnecessary distractions away from his friend. And something just didn’t add up, in his mind. He knew the two of them were closer friends than they usually let on, but this was something else. 

It wasn’t until the Sunday, right before the race, before he realised that he’d been right. 

He’d stumbled across the pair again, Charles holding onto Pierre tightly, looking like he was trying to calm himself down. Pierre was just holding him, letting Charles get all his emotions out without judgement. He didn’t dare move, it seemed like such a fragile moment that even the slightest sound would break it. 

“I’m sorry.” Charles managed to get out, hiccuping. “You shouldn’t be here with me.” 

“This is exactly where I need to be.” Pierre responded, pressing a gentle kiss to Charles temple. “I’m not leaving. You need me more.”

“I love you.” 

“Love you too.”

He backed out here, conscious not to make a sound. It wasn’t just thrill seeking with them, then. 

~*~

v.

With Carlos and Lando, it was almost inevitable. Even half a Paddock away, he could see the pining between the two, and he was pretty sure that some of the McLaren engineers had started betting on the two. There was less secrecy between the two, and Lando was so young and had no barriers on his life, it didn’t really seem to matter anymore. It was almost like an open secret, except the only two that thought it was a secret were Lando and Carlos themselves. 

The tension kept mounting, both almost oblivious, until Germany. Lando had crashed out spectacularly, though no-one was really paying attention to that outside of the McLaren pit. He was walking back to the motorhome after the race, knowing that the debrief was going to be long and painful, when he heard a shout from somewhere behind him. He turned, and saw Carlos running up to Lando, concern etched all over his face.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asked, starting to reach out like he wanted to touch. Lando was grinning, bad race already forgotten.

“Yeah, why? You didn’t worry did you?” Lando teased, expecting Carlos to laugh along with him. Except he didn’t.

Instead, he gave a groan of frustration, dashing forward and giving Lando a kiss, pulling back almost as quickly, horrified. “I am sorry, I know you do not like me, I was just upset, and -” He broke off, as Lando pulled him back in, shutting him up. 

He smiled from where he stood, turning back to the Mercedes motorhome. At least something good came out of today.

~*~

\+ i. 

It didn’t always go to plan though. He’d seen so many of the drivers fall in love, and some even out of it. And sometimes, they fell in love with the wrong person.

He’d worked with Lewis for a long time. He knew him almost as well as he knew his family, Lewis put his trust and faith in him every time he got in the car. And he knew exactly how he felt about Nico. 

He didn’t know what had happened before Lewis was in Mercedes. It wasn’t his business. But he could see Nico was trying his best to impress Lewis, even if he was going about it all the wrong way. Lewis didn’t respond well to mind games, or snide comments. He was a racer at heart, and underhand techniques never did sit well with him. He watched as Nico tried everything he could think of, and when it finally became too much for him to bear, he retired. He wasn’t able to deal with the possibility of rejection, and took the easy way out. Not that he was criticising. 

He thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn’t. It never was. Nico took the time off, mending his broken heart back to something of normalcy. He returned back to the Paddock a few years later, holding his head high, but still up to his old tricks. He tried to drag Lewis’s competitors down, but Lewis took no notice. And there was nothing Nico could do but watch from the sidelines as Lewis took everything from him without meaning to. 

There were a lot of happy endings in the Paddock, and he was happy to have seen some of them start. This wouldn’t be one. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, crossposted to my tumblr (charanteleclerc), and prompts are always open! (I do get there sooner or later!) ❤️


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